The Distant Present

The Distant Present

I’ve noticed the change,

where before clouds would pass

now this weather is still.

Torrential rain or sunshine rays

and I observe from above,

untouched by the daily gusts of wind,

I am holding this self in place.

Something stays with me,

I cannot put my finger on it,

but a trace of your soul remains in my days

and I’ve never felt more peaceful.

I trace yours

with intentions sent across ocean waves.

Our love spans continents,

don’t ask me how

you exist so close when so far away.

If You And I Had Been Elemental Forces

If You And I Had Been Elemental Forces

Camden market, where I came by

those shoes on your feet. A comfortable fit

to make this mountain climb an easier course,

with a sky of clouds to conquer,

autographed with the mind’s eye.

To finish the picture,

sometimes, we painted our own clouds.

Called this one cumulonimbus,

another formed the shape we know as shame

next to those of cotton-candy kindness

frozen in time. This pattern came

and stayed, covering the stars

like a foggy window pane

and sending down showers of shadows

we forgot were homemade,

but our cheeks will always wet the same

when our skin meets one another’s pain

and mine are still soaked through

from being too soft or hard on you.

Each counted towards the chance of an impending storm

and luck was skirting the lightning strikes

that tracked our every step,

as moonlight fell on this divided town.

Until one of us, lost

the other one, left

both chasing the finer weather.

The Melting Point of Perception

The Melting Point of Perception

You can yell at me till spring turns to summer

turned to leaves turning yellow

but still these demons shout louder.

Here arrives as a long winter path paved with ice,

falling facts shatter on impact

across my frozen feet. It’s snowing glass

and their light rays bend blind eyes to a different reality;

one convinced the past is all that’s left of me.

I pinch the sun between two fingers,

beg for the burning present,

just one beam to heat each muscle,

aching to move.

Every Day A Weather Change

Every Day A Weather Change

Sunday’s body heat left me cold,

feigned calmness and clasping at the chance

to feel close to another heart beat,

heads resting on chests, a collection bucket of tears

donated by the quietly broken.

By Monday, cheap champagne makes my choices

under cover of darkness and dripping in melted chocolate,

these marshmallow mouths crave comfort,

drum and bass meets muffled cries of delight

as our minds drown in the musical remix.

Tuesday felt no fragment of guilt,

maybe it was just grief faded into folds of grey

and five beers in, your fingers find mine

and grasp fragility, so focused on some far off goal

that I miss finding myself in the flood.

The week moves on and takes me with it,

making peace with the waves, the lulls in longing

will end as they must, I trust I will land

wherever the wind tires of me, a farewell

wearing laughter, and with love my faithful friend.

Taste of Heaven

Taste of Heaven

Don’t kid yourself,

this barely ruffled my feathers,

my faith belongs

to the way the wind

strokes between my open wings

with nerves left trembling,

but sometimes even wild things

rest for a while

and still the world

has ample love to go around.

All creatures adapt to the changing seasons

and these sharp claws

would be constrained

by an existence in captivity,

a birds eye view is only bestowed

to those blessed to be free

and I was born an untamed spirit

touching everything

and nobody.